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 |    We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
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“There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting upon God, and gathering through meditation on His Word spiritual strength for labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we thus get the real nutriment out of them. . . . Why is it that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not thoughtfully meditate on God's Word. They love the wheat, but they do not grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such folly deliver us, O Lord. . . .” ― Charles Spurgeon “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.” ― C. H. Spurgeon “Hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.” ― Charles Haddon Spurgeon “If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.” ― Charles Spurgeon “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.” ― Charles Spurgeon “Visit many good books, but live in the Bible.” ― Charles Spurgeon “When your will is God's will, you will have your will.” ― Charles Spurgeon (Philippians 2:13, KJV) https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon    |
Each life is worth the time we spend on Earth. The hardness of the days will forge a gem. The best we have is started by new birth. Great hope is found by finding rest in Him. Our times in life are rarely all of good, but good can come e'en through the times like these. The strength of life is found in He, Who stood on Olivet, ascending joy to free. He made us for He had a Purpose Known. His Plans are best from all Eternity. Though days may cause us drag in heartfelt groan, the last is worth the Price once paid by He. The days of life are worth the price we pay, but lasting life is GIFT He calls The Day. by Jay O’Toole on March 17th, 2023  |
"I want to run, and jump, and play, to have some fun quite oft. I'm bored of sitting quiet each day with just some thoughts aloft." "'Tis true, 'twould be the greatest thrill to speed through life, again, as when the legs could run at will, and bliss would often win, "but now the days are fading fast of heartbeats, and the breath why should we know the frivolous last of moments 'fore our death?" "Why should, indeed, we know some joy before our flesh is toast? Why should we be that youthful boy, who did things without boast? "My God, Man, get up off your couch to take each day by storm! You need not be an old-age slouch, a wriggling, slimy worm." "I thank, thee, Son, the youth I was, for jarring me a-loose from ancient lethargy because man's life is blest by use." "We still can go. We have some days. There's hope for us to grasp. The joy of life is as Christ says. All death is from the asp." by Jay O’Toole on March 16th, 2023 |
The polar vortex shifts about to bring us springtime cold. The pollen seeds have burst on out. A story doth unfold. The time is now when blooms abound, but frost is at the door. How will the plants find life, rebound when winter's temps are more? Will frozen blooms need to bloom, again? Will pollen cover us twice? How will the growing months begin? Will harvest be as nice? We've left our comfort zone it seems as plants and humans reel before the cold our great Lord deems our lesson best we feel. The Lord of Glory speaks in words, in life, in the harshest tones when humans have His Truths oft spurned, repenting in their groans. But there is grace when we do turn with hope for those in need. Unusual weather makes us learn when we forget to read. The coldest blast will soon be gone. Our hearts will joy and dance. The days of greenness will be won for summer's growing plants. by Jay O’Toole on March 15th, 2023 |
| spring’s a hazy pic warmer days have met the cold some day soon they’re past by Jay O’Toole on March 14, 2023 |
The days of winter's icy touch can come, and they may go, but winter warmth can do too much to lull us from its snow. When February feels like May or early into June, we don't know rightfully what to say in March's chilly boon. But wait until this blast is passed, and then will come the spring. The chill is sharp, but won't long last, and Hope will finally sing. by Jay O’Toole on March 13th, 2023 |
| The days of Spring are on the way. The blooms have much they'd like to say, but watch out when the temps go south for closed could be each tiny mouth. When things go cold let's fully pray. The days of Spring are on the way. "Be strong, each blossom, nearing frost, that progress made, it be not lost." Unusual coolness in this March, enjoy its rest 'fore summer's parch. The days of Spring are on the way, that dancing flowers in colors play. Bid April showers' sweetness fall, Resplendent gardens, wonders all. We'll wait through ev'ry chilly day. The days of Spring are on the way. by Jay O’Toole on March 10th, 2023 |
| "Obey the Lord," my only choice. The daily way is from His Voice. The world may bid me to them come with baubles, and great songs aplomb. In Christ, Alone, my days rejoice. "Obey the Lord," my only choice. My Self may bid me, "Save our heart. You've served the Lord right from the start." How can I turn, reject this One, the Saving Lord, God's Only Son? "Obey the Lord," my only choice to drown out ev'ry other voice. These days of life begin That Day. No other Truth is left to say to cause the saints to e'er rejoice. "Obey the Lord," my only choice. by Jay O’Toole on March 9th, 2023 |
He sits a-pace to help me think, a-listening as I go. He gives a cup to help me drink, and write the things I know. He sits with me when words come slow, and dances when they're fast. Consistently, he helps me grow with changes, that do last. This poetry's consistent blocks will help me build the house, that smiling face, its joy unlocks, lifts hearts, and new hopes arouse. by Jay O’Toole on March 8th, 2023 |
Sometimes the help we try to give seems little in our eyes. Sometimes the ways we wish to live may often miss the prize. Sometimes the help we think is good is waved off as not much. Sometimes the hopes, that live in "could," can't reach a hand to touch. Sometimes the help, that we think best just sits the bench, and cries, until transformed through God's Own Test, which calls the self to die. Sometimes we wave through myriad days, "Pick my help. I would serve," while naught is changed of thoughts, nor ways as waiting's "not deserved." But the opportunity comes, we think, "This cannot be. I'm made for greatness, sums, and drums, but this help none will see." There is no small help in God's Eyes. He sees the kindest grace. He sees the shadowed gift as Skies for none can take our place. He parks us in some place, unknown to help some unseen cause, that when we stand before His Throne, He will be our best applause. by Jay O’Toole on March 7th, 2023 |
Sometimes Time's a waiting game. The path is murky, dark. The hope we seek is truly the same as our rest days in the park. Maturity is what we need, but Oh, how long that takes! All self-needs are our greatest greed, 'til Wisdom stomps the brakes. Why is the goal of being whole a lifetime, uphill climb? Why are our frailties, fuel, and coal, that drive us in our prime? While waiting on Life's crowded bench, I find a place to rest. Our thirst is what we first must quench by He, Who bore each test. He waited 'bout 4000 years to crush the serpent's head. He rose and waited through our fears as Victor from the dead. He's waited two millennia to come to claim His Bride, that when the years are many, full, we'll live right by His Side. The years of waiting seem so large 'cause our perspective's small, but look to Him, Who bore our charge, and list for His near Call. by Jay O’Toole on March 6th, 2023 |
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So beautifully written.
